


Raceways and Love Stories

by SunshineDaisies6



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 11:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3380504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineDaisies6/pseuds/SunshineDaisies6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hannah moved to California in a self imposed exile, she never expected to feel at home. And she certainly never expected to find a family. When Dom Toretto enters her life, she gets both. Dom/OC</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raceways and Love Stories

Hannah was tired, the kind of exhaustion that was settling deep in her bones. Her feet were sore, and her lower back ached something terrible. She'd been working nonstop all night serving greasy fries and lukewarm beer to grumbly truck drivers and leering, pimply street punks. The Crow's Nest was a dank, grubby hole in the wall. With manager that thankfully didn't ask many questions, paid in cash and wouldn’t let anyone get handsy with the staff. As long as Hannah got to work on time and didn't get mouthy with the regulars the job was a guarantee. 

Tonight, the establishment was overcrowded and muggy. The noise made it impossible for Hannah to hear herself think. There were too many bodies around her, and she couldn’t move without running into someone. That someone usually ended up being a large, sweaty man. She was feeling very closed in. That feeling was making her anxious, she could feel tension bleeding into her. 

A cloud of cigarette smoke hovered overhead the bar patrons. Hannah breathed in the stale nicotine, let it settle in her lungs. She could taste the burn of tobacco in her throat. A smoke break might be what I need right now. The vice was expensive and deadly she knew, but with every brush against a leering customer, her need for a cigarette grew. 

Trying to put as much space between herself and mob of people sitting, Hannah hurried towards the back of the large room where the kitchen and bar were. The bar itself was large, not wide but long, extending the length of the room's back wall. It was splattered with old water rings, and had dents along the surface. The counter was manned by Mack, the full time bartender and pseudo bouncer. Mack was an intimidating figure, tall and broad with thick arms that were heavily tattooed. He was bald, but had a full beard and a truly fantastic menacing stare.

From his place along the back wall, Mack could see all the exits in the building, and could track all the staff on the floor. Customers were wary of him, but the Nest's waitresses loved him because Mack watched. Nothing got by him and he didn't let anyone get away with disrespecting his coworkers. It also helped that he was a genuinely good guy, and fun to talk to. Hannah crossed to the back of the room, and turned to face the rowdy crowd, leaning her elbows against the counter behind her. 

"Rough night kid?" Mack appeared at her right elbow, body turned slightly in her direction but eyes still on the room. He had an empty glass in his hands and an old towel slung over his shoulder. Hannah glanced over waiting for him to make eye contact then pulled a face, making an over exaggerated grimace. Mack huffed a slight laugh. 

"Could be worse kid. Wait til football season kicks off, we stay crowded." 

"That's when I'm quitting Mackie. I don't think I can handle all that testosterone in this itty-bitty room. Especially if some dumbass is rooting for the Cowboys." 

Mack snorted on flicked his towel at her. "I happen to like the Cowboys." He gestured down to his faded t-shirt where Hannah could see a very faint "C" outline. She smiled and slid her arms up to brace her palms on the wood of the bar. 

"I know." She pushed up and slid her butt back to sit on the countertop, before slinging both legs over the bar. She dropped down beside Mack and elbowed him but kept walking towards the staff exit. "Dumbass." She threw out over her shoulder. She smiled to herself as she swung the door towards the back lot open. 

The night air had a slight chill, but it was a balm to Hannah's overheated skin. She reveled in the coolness for a second, taking a deep breath of the clean air. The back lot was dark and quiet, just the reprieve she needed. She crossed staff designated lot to her beloved Shelby mustang, opening the door to get her crumpled pack of smokes. 

Relived to find a lighter inside the box, she closed the door to the car and leaned her back against the door. Trembling hands lit the white cylinder, and she cursed when she realized just how effected the crowd had made her. One deep drag pulled smoke in her lungs, the exhale cleared them. 

With each puff she felt her body relax, the tremors in her hands began to slow and her shoulders eased. She continued the soothing motions, inhale then exhale until her cigarette had burned to the bottom filter. With a smooth motion she flicked the butt away, watching the orange ember sail away from her onto the dark concrete. 

A sharp bang sounded behind her, making Hannah swiftly turn to face the noise. Mack stood in the doorway of the back entrance, the light behind him spilling out into the night. In his hands was a pack of menthols. He held them up and smiled slightly at Hannah. 

“Terrible habit right?” He chuckled and headed to stand beside her. She offered her lighter towards him which he took gratefully. “Didn’t take you for a smoker kid.” He handed back the lighter. 

“I’ve been trying to quit but,” Hannah shrugged and looked out at the cars filling in the lot “it’s a hard one to kick Mackie.” Nodding he blew out a cloud of smoke. 

“No kidding girl. My wife has been hounding me to stop for months but hasn’t happened yet. Maybe soon I’ll try harder to stop.”

Hannah chuckled, the sound flat and bitter. “I think I’ll have to quit soon, can’t afford these death sticks anymore. Can’t afford anything really.” Mack bumped his shoulder into hers, and waited until she looked over at him so he could bend down and lock eyes with her. 

“You need anything kid, you let me know.” His gaze was somber, and his eyes were honest. For the first time that Hannah had fled to California, she felt something happy flair into her chest. It was like a burst of sunshine, filling in the dark spots of her overtired, emotionally drained psyche. She bumped him back, saying softly “You’re a good friend Mack.” They shared a smile. 

Mack flicked his own smoked down butt away and ran a hand over the car behind him. “Go ahead and get out of here Hannah. Closers just came in. I’ll clock you out, I know the crowd was getting to you.” Grateful, she turned to open the door as Mack headed inside.   
Throwing up a hand to wave at him, Hannah settled behind the wheel of her car. Her hands ran over the wheel once, then twice before she buckled herself in and started the ignition. As she pulled away from the Crow’s Nest an idea formed popped into her mind. She flicked her left blinker on and smiled. She knew just where to go to help her relax. 

There was something about the ocean that calmed Hannah. Tonight's trip to the beach was a much needed escape. The trip itself hadn’t taken long and from the first moment she had felt sand beneath her feet, Hannah had felt at ease. She was calmer now than before at the bar. Beneath the surface however, her anxiety and unease was there. 

Laying there in the sand, with a ratty hoodie as a pillow and her toes being brushed by the cool tidewater Hannah closed her eyes. With the rhythmic sound of crashing waves in the background, and the gritty texture of sand beneath her, Hannah was able to breathe for the first time all day. For the first time in weeks if she was being honest.

Honestly, the day hadn’t been particularly bad or even very different from the schedule she had established. Her days had followed the same pattern since she had driven into LA and declared the first shitty hotel she found home. Three days short of a month and Hannah had carved out a life for herself here. It wasn't a great life, but she knew it would take time to establish something more. The past week had an atmosphere of normalcy that Hannah hadn't felt in a long time. 

What was different today, however, wasn’t her routine it was her. Her reactions to things were different, more sensitive almost. It’s like there was an awareness in her, an ability to sense beyond the present moment. It made her anxious in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. There was an electricity to the air that forewarned her of change. Something that was going to interrupt her new, carefully structured life. She could feel it surrounding her, brushing against her, leaving a film of uncertainty on her skin. 

She'd spent all day with the weight of this oddly different atmosphere pressed against her shoulders, holding her down. She was tense in a way she hadn't been since crossing into California. This unusual, uncomfortable feeling was why Hannah had struggled throughout her work shift, she was almost sure of it. 

Now, she could feel her remaining tension draining with each ripple of water against her feet. When she finally felt the tight knot of muscles below her neck ease, she opened her eyes and raised her upper body enough to recline on her elbows. Hannah took one last measured breath as she studied the vast expanse of water rolled out before her like an obsidian carpet that met an equally dark midnight sky. Beautiful. 

Only a sprinkling of stars were visible and the full moon was showcased in perfect contrast to the surrounding darkness. It was the kind of moment that had her fingers twitching, wanting to wrap around a paintbrush. Maybe I'll actually paint something tonight. 

Feeling inspired, Hannah rose from her makeshift bed. She stretched, arms reaching toward the sky then down towards her toes. While still bent, she ran her palms down her legs, first the backs of her thighs followed by her calves. She straightened and pulled on her old beat up Converse and wrapped her hoodie around her. With one last look behind her, she trudged up the sand and walked to her car. 

Hannah slid into the driver's seat feeling re-centered and relaxed. It had been ages since inspiration had hit her, and now it was rushing forward, slamming into her head. Images and scenes, color schemes, ideas were on a loop in front of her eyes. All she needed now was a quiet place to work and a steaming cup of cheap coffee. 

 

Not wanting to spend any more time than necessary in her run down hotel room, she had searched for a dinner still open at the late hour. The choices were almost nonexistent, which was quite surprising given the area she was looking in. Finally, she had found one, a place called Toretto's Market. Seeing it as her only option, she slowly pulled into the parking lot. 

Looking around she immediately questioned her decision. There were only a few cars there, and as soon as she saw them she shivered. She knew those cars. Those were racing cars. Loud and obnoxiously painted, they represented danger and bad decisions. But mostly they intrigued her, seduced her. Those cars screamed speed, a needed thrill and adrenaline. All the things she'd left behind. 

Hannah parked closest to the front door, beside a red car she identified as a 1993 Mazda RX-7. Her own car looked positively dull next to the vibrant paint job on the Mazda. Hannah knew her baby needed a paint job, but the faded black on her Shelby was much more noticeable sitting next to the other obviously well cared for car. Another thing I don't have the money for. 

Hannah sighed and circled to the passenger side of her car and opened the door, carefully reaching down and pulling out her art satchel. The bag was overfilled, brimming with canvas, paint tubes and her favorite old brushes. Slinging the wide leather strap across her shoulder, Hannah knocked the car door closed with her hip and started towards the dinner. With every step she took, she felt the air shift. She wasn’t sure if it was the presence of the cars and their reminder of home, or something else entirely. 

Hannah pulled open the dinner's door and made a quick sweep of the place. Old but not run down. Clean but not spotless. Cramped but homey. It was a place that had character, and Hannah felt some slight sense of comfort in the secluded establishment. There were three men in the very back corner, sharing loud stories and whoops of excitement. Two older gentleman had a pot of coffee between them at the first booth to her left. Both groups seemed familiar with the place. 

A young woman with a sweet face and a dark curtain of shiny hair, that instantly made Hannah envious, was leaning behind the counter. She had textbooks spread before her, and made no notice of Hannah until she had taken a seat opposite her. When she noticed the presence in front of her, she looked up and smiled in a somewhat rehearsed manner. 

"Hey, what can I get for you?" The young women, who Hannah decided had to be a teenage and therefore younger then herself, straightened upon asking. Hannah noticed a menu to her right, but knew she didn’t want to eat. "I'll just take a coffee, thanks." The teenager nodded once, "No problem." 

A moment later a cup of coffee was slid down by Hannah's hand. With a muttered thank you, Hannah took a sip from the steaming liquid. After she set the cup down she began pulling out her various art supplies, a handful of brushes with various bristle length, a small square canvas, a pallet and a deep velvety blue paint. She squeezed a dollop of the blue out, and dipped her brush in it. A moment later her hand was hovering, brush at the ready, above the canvas. Hannah hesitated for the briefest of moments, then lowered her hand and got to work. 

She became absorbed in what she was doing, the motions of her paint brush, putting her thoughts on canvas were the only things she was aware of. She worked on layering colors and giving texture to the canvas. At some point she had abandoned her brushes all together and used her hands to bring forth the image in her head. Hannah had slick stripes of paint from fingertips to elbows, smudges of navy on her cheeks and even careless highlights of obsidian drying in her hair. She had a habit of running her fingers through her long sheet of blonde stands, and the motion of pulling it up and away from her face was second nature when she was painting. Now it sat in a bun at the top of her head, the curly texture morphing into frizz with black streaks from her temples running back.

Hannah was so absorbed in her work that she didn't see her young waitress shifting her weight nervously behind the counter. The girl cleared her throat once, twice before gaining Hannah's attention. "Sorry to bother you, but we're closing up now." Hannah blinked and glanced around, noticing the empty dinner. The girl continued speaking. "No offense, but you look a mess. Are you okay?" 

Hannah smiled as she took in her appearance and saw the paint drying on her arms. "I just get really involved with my work sometimes." She laughed lightly when she saw the blue handprint she'd left on the coffee mug. Gesturing towards it with a nod of her head she smiled at the waitress. "Clearly I shouldn't be trusted with paint." 

The girl smiled back, a smile that light up her whole face and made her even prettier than before. "Don't worry about it." She stepped closer and hesitantly reached a hand out towards Hannah's painting. "Can I see?" 

Hannah nodded and turned the canvas on the counter, showing the scene she'd painted. The girl observed it slowly then looked up back up at Hannah. "This is really amazing! You're very talented." 

"Thank you, it's nice to hear someone say that. I haven't done much in a while, I thought I might be a tad rusty." Hannah stood, stretched and began to gather her equipment. She stopped though, and gestured toward herself. "Hannah, by the way." 

"Mia" replied the girl, reaching out with her hand to shake Hannah's. Mia seemed to think better off it when Hannah inched back a bit, holding up blue hands apologetically. 

"Sorry hun, you probably don't want paint all over you. But it's nice to meet you Mia. How much for the coffee?"

"On the house tonight, you barely even drank it." Mia cared the cup over to the sink and watched Hannah pack the rest of her things away. When Hannah had stuffed the last of her brushes away, Mia flicked the lights off in the room and walked over to knock on a door that had light spilling out. "Dom, let's go!" 

Hannah thanked Mia once again for the coffee and turned towards the main door, canvas in hand. As she stepped into the night air she looked down at the painting she'd finished and smiled. It was good, better then she expected. Tonight had been productive for her. She opened her car door and slung her heavy bag across the seat into the passenger side and began to settle into the car. As she was lowering herself into the seat, Mia walked out of the market with a man close behind her. 

He looked up right as Hannah began to observe him, and the two made eye contact. His eyes ran over her face, took in the mess of paint slathered on her body, then glanced across her car. A slow smirk spread on his mouth as he made eye contact once more with Hannah. His eyes were curious, and she knew hers were too. 

He was a very attractive man, and Hannah appreciated a good looking man. Especially a man with the physique that this one had. She was a sucker for strong arms, and a wide chest. And while he had a strong commanding presence, his face was kind. His eyes had a sparkle in them, that could've been amusement but Hannah felt was something more. Damn. She let a small smirk grace her own lips before she looked down and started her car. Backing out of her parking spot, she could help but to look up at him once more. She found that he had moved, crossed to the driver's side of the Mazda and was standing at her passenger side. And he was still looking at her. The smirk was gone, but there was something about his eyes that held her in place and stopped the slow progression of her car. She was intrigued by this man, but after a moment of continued staring she focused her attention back at leaving. 

When she pulled completely out of the parking lot, she let out a huge breath, then smiled. I think I'll be going to Toretto's more often


End file.
